To Those Who Remember And Can't Forget
by Storytellers Inc
Summary: AuthoressExtraordinaire - Victor Frankenstein and the Mad Hatter are not the only novel characters in Storybrooke. Victor is a science-fiction character and Jefferson is a classic character, so what if there were some characters from a fiction novel revolving around a specific historical event? Follow the journey of these characters through Once Upon A Time. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_**A.N. - **__**Hello Everyone, I am the Storytellers Inc writer known as: AuthoressExtraordinaire, or as I am referred to in these lovely little chats as AE. **__**This is my first OUAT fanfic ever! A very close friend introduced me to the fandom and now I'm too emotionally invested at this point, as well as too far into season 3 on Netflix, to turn back now. An idea for a crossover just so happened to claw at my brain every time I watched the show.**__**So, since I know now that Frankenstein is in Storybrooke, if they have a science fiction novel character in there as well as a classic novel character such as the Mad Hatter; what on earth would happen if there were a few fictional characters written to an actual historical plot? I do not truly know, per say, if you can call it historical fiction because there is only mention of a few historical characters… but I digress.**_

_****__**Moving on with things. The Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing having to do with 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' nor any of the characters/descriptions I am using that were created by Baroness Orczy and nor do I own any of OUAT Characters created by the ABC team. Although some of the characters used in this story may have some original traits that I have put in myself, they still belong to their respected creators. Ladies and Gentlemen, the story.**_

_The Day the Clock Moved_

The hamlet of Storybrooke was always simple and quiet, similar to other small towns by only a few societal customs. The higher ups, those who are feared, those who are loved, the town drunk, the town recluse, town miser, town religious orders, town doctor and then the town mayor as well as your common and average citizens who all know each other in some way, shape or form. In small towns it is basic tradition that is left unspoken that everyone knows a little about everyone and some people make it their priority to learn much more.

Storybrooke however was never the same when a blonde stranger, the birthmother of the mayor's son, came to town. It was the day the clock in the square that sat a top the library moved.

And on that day many who didn't remember who they originally were did.

Mr. Gold remembered he was Rumplestiltskin when Emma Swan told him her name, Jefferson, the Mad Hatter, however, always remembered as did Regina, the evil queen. But there were two others in town, neither of them were from a fairytale at all but had lived in the same story, they had crossed paths many times before they were cursed to this world that was the future to them, and they steered clear from each other. One in fear of what the other might do, and the other waiting for the right moment to strike when it would hurt the most for the other one.

The day after his encounter with Emma, Mr. Gold was changing his store sign from closed to open for that day. As he began to walk away from the door his assistant entered, the bell above the door announcing her arrival.

"Good Morning Mr. Gold." She said. Her voice was sweet, low and musical with a slight singsong and fairly faint touch of foreign intonation in the pronunciation of the consonants. The woman who walked in was tall, above average with magnificent presence and regal figure.

She had an Edwardian-Gibson Girl, old-fashioned type of style with a few modern changes that truly made her stick out in a crowd but highlighted her elegance. The hat she wore was dark royal blue felt, almost navy but not quite, with a moderately sized brim that was low on her brow in front, from which hung gray netting gracefully in front of her features, and gradually the brim upturned on the sides and in the back. A gray ribbon was around the cap of the hat and was bordered with white lace.

The hat threw a soft shadow across the classic brow with an aureole of auburn hair, that usually hung in long tight ringlet curls that had an almost 'Pride and Prejudice' style was put in a low bun at the nape of her neck with some curls framing her face. The gray netting that hung from the brim of her hat did little to nothing at all in hiding her features.

A sweet, almost childlike mouth, the straight chiseled nose, round chin and delicate throat were all bathed in the warm glow of the shop lights and the red sunshine of the morning that came through the windows behind here made her seem almost portrait-like. Twenty-five years of age and beautiful, Marguerite St. Just could have any man she wished but she didn't, she only hoped for the one she was looking for to find her.

"And the same to Mademoiselle St. Just." Mr. Gold replied courteously to her with his back still turned as he walked to the front desk, his cane making a third footstep-like noise as if he took one step with two feet and the other with one.

For as long as she had been in Storybrooke she knew time stood still and she knew who everyone was thanks to the fact that she lived with her old friend Jefferson, who would visit Marguerite and her husband in their realm when things were as they had been before the curse.

Marguerite smiled and continued to walk in, straightening her fitted, high waisted, double breasted, dark royal blue jacket which she wore on top of a simple fitted grey blouse with a small white scarf tied in a cravat-like manner, and up to the glass counter upon which sat the register. Her blue-gray, shin length tulle, full pleated, A-line skirt with a white crinoline petticoat, swaying with each step she took. Her gray, Edwardian inspired, ankle boot with lace appliqués, that had barely any heel, made a gentle noise as she walked.

"Business as usual Mr. Gold?" Marguerite asked him. He hesitated for a split second and then replied and in a cryptic manner.

"Yes. Business as usual." And with that he walked into the back room, she followed at his heels and then turned to the coat tree in the corner by the doorway and placed her hat and purse on a single hook and then spun gracefully on her heel back to the front to do some tidying up as well as cataloguing and bringing specific items that he either wished to examine that were farther in the back room, or bringing him an object to be repaired.

Once she was done tidying up, which only took ten minutes, she went to the back room again to speak with Mr. Gold. She walked in and saw him at his work desk examining a set of hunting daggers, magnifying glass in hand he was examining the smallest of the set of six first.

"Mr. Gold, I was wondering when you wanted to take a break for lunch today? If you want to take it early, I can take mine later, and vice versa. You could probably run home and relax for a while if you decided to do a late lunch." Marguerite said.

Mr. Gold looked up at her. "Meeting someone for lunch then dearie?" He asked her. As he turned back to looking at the dagger, 'that slipped' he thought to himself when he went over what he asked her in his head.

She smiled and let out a small laugh. "Indeed I am sir. I'm meeting Jefferson at Granny's, I've finally been able to convince him out of that big empty house."

When she mentioned Jefferson he looked up at her, and then he smiled mischievously. "I hope this relationship of yours won't interfere with your perfect attendance to work."

Marguerite blushed at his insinuation. "I assure you Mr. Gold, Jefferson and I are simply old friends who live together for the sake of convenience. Rest assured, Mr. Gold, there has never been and never will be anything more than friendship between myself and Jefferson." She smiled at the end.

Mr. Gold looked at her for a moment but then answered her previous question.

"I think that I'll be taking my lunch late today. Take your lunch early and spend the extra time with some chatting with Jefferson afterward here in the shop if you wish."

Marguerite smiled and laughed a small laugh again and nodded. "Thank you Mr. Gold. I think it will be good for him." And with that said, she left the back room to the front of the store with a smile on her face.

As he watched her leave, _Rumplestiltskin _had much to ponder. And the extra time after lunch was just what he needed. _How much does the Mad Hatter know, more importantly, how much does Marguerite St. Just know?_

The one thing he didn't know and probably will not ever know, is that _St. Just was her maiden-name…_

At exactly two minutes before eleven-thirty, Marguerite walked into the back room and grabbed her hat and purse off of the hook of the coat tree. "Mr. Gold I'm going to start heading out for lunch."

Without looking up from him his work he bid her goodbye. "Have a nice lunch." Simply out of courteousness. It was routine for them, she would ask him which time he wished to take lunch, the shorter, earlier time or the longer, later time.

Though if she were in one of the usual Storybrooke Theatre productions majority of the time he would take the later lunch, like today, so she wouldn't have to close up. Never had they once squabbled over who got the longer lunch break because, in thought by both, it was already settled who would get which break that day.

Marguerite was walking up to Granny's Diner just before the clock hit eleven-thirty, as she walked through the gate she saw Jefferson sitting outside waiting for her. "I see you got my message Jefferson and you came, how cooperative of you." She said with a smirk.

"It's the least I can do, trying to pull myself together long enough to be able to be out in public, after all it is you who puts up with me and I with you." He replied to her in a gentlemanly manner.

She laughed a little and then, arm-in-arm they walked up to the door, Jefferson pulled ahead of her to hold it open. Marguerite thanked him and they walked in, they picked a corner booth right near the entrance by the window, the booth was pick because it was a little more out of sight for anyone who walked in. A precaution Marguerite had taken to instinct just in case _he _was stalking about, back home, here and in the next world she never wanted to encounter that _man _ever again.

Just as they sat down Ruby walked past them. "I'll be back for your order." She said off handedly as she walked by on her way to the kitchen.

And so o they each picked up a menu, Marguerite was sitting on the window side of the booth looking into the diner and Jefferson was seated facing her and was able to look out of the window behind her.

"I'm going to have a Caesar salad with a lemonade, what about you Jefferson? See anything you like, I'll pay for this one." Marguerite told him as she set down her menu back into metal basket on the end of their table by the wall.

"No don't worry, Marguerite, I'll pay for my own meal but thank you for offering. I think I'm going to get some lasagna and a lemonade as well." He said to her with a slight smile. When Ruby came back to the table and pulled out her order booklet, jotted down what they wanted and went to get their drinks and give their orders to the cook.

From their place in the corner they could hear snippets of gossip, and they were able to gleam a pretty solid conclusion from what they heard. The stranger who brought back the mayor's son was Henry's birthmother and Regina wanted her gone.

As they waited for their food they listened and talked, right before their food got to the table Jefferson said he needed to use the rest room. When Ruby brought the food Marguerite motioned for her to come closer so she could whisper.

"Ruby, when we're nearly done, could you bring two shots of vodka here?" She asked the waitress. Ruby smiled mischievously, nodded and walked away to serve other patrons. Jefferson came back to the table a moment later and they began to eat and chat.

Halfway through eating his lasagna, Jefferson wiped his mouth with a napkin and then swallowed so he could speak.

"You know what I think, I think the only reason Regina wants this Emma Swan woman gone is because, well for a start she's the mother of her son and two because I think that this is the Emma that was foretold to break the curse." He said in a low and quiet voice so that no one else would hear.

"Couldn't the curse have been broken on her arrival? Because if that was supposed to be the case then it's not broken because everyone still acts as they have for the past 28 years and there's been no change… except for a slight change that I noticed in Mr. Gold this morning. Do you think it's possible that he remembers?" Marguerite questioned him quietly.

"Was your initial despair in that statement because Percy doesn't remember?" He asked her. She looked at him, her façade never breaking but her radiant blue-gray eyes spoke of a forlorn and longing soul. A sight he knew all too well.

"Concerning Mr. Gold, we'll just have to wait and see." And with that being said they continued with their meal. Once they were done Ruby left two shot glasses on the table and then left them each a receipt.

"What's this about?" Jefferson asked her, she smiled a little and picked up the small glass in front of her.

"To those who remember." She said. "And can't forget." He finished as he picked his glass. Both of them threw back their drinks at the same time and put their glasses down simultaneously. And then they both got up, each paying for their own meal and Marguerite paying for the vodka. They began to walk together back to the pawnshop, it was exactly noon when they reached the shop and went in through the front door and the bell rang.

"Mr. Gold, I'm back from lunch!" She announced loudly but in a civilized manner. Then she walked to the back room to hang her purse and hat again where they had been earlier that morning.

"Has anyone come in since I left?" she asked and looked to where he sat at his desk, he'd made astounding progress.

"No, no one's been in." He said as he slowly got up, picking up his cane and used it to help him right himself. Mr. Gold hobbled toward her.

"Well, I'll consider the lack of business, for this day only, to be a blessing of sorts. I hope you enjoy your lunch break Mr. Gold." Marguerite said to him as he walked out the back door.

Once he was gone she grabbed her music player and blue-tooth portable stereo, turned on her heel in a graceful manner and walked back into the front of the shop.

"Mr. Gold says no one's been in at all today, so I would like it very much and wouldn't mind at all if you decided to keep me company." She said to him as she busily turned on her IPod and changed it to the blue-tooth setting so it would sync with the stereo.

"I have not much else to do Marguerite, except for my hats and my telescopes." Jefferson told her as he sauntered over to the counter. Marguerite smirked.

"I'm glad to hear you'll be keeping me company but I'll warn you, now that the deal-maker is away for lunch, I will be blasting musical soundtracks. It'll be just like it is at home!" she said in a cheerful manner.

After showing Jefferson all of the more odd pieces is Gold's collection, as well as giving little back-stories on each object, which took up half of the hour they would have without Gold in the shop, they sat down on the floor against the glass display case that was on the right if you were standing by the register.

They sat there in silence for ten minutes, it wasn't awkward but it was a heavy silence you could truly feel. Jefferson noticed a rather large change in Marguerite's demeanor when he heard the song she was playing. The song was on that she would play when she needed to think or was conflicted or sad, it was 'Marguerite's Dilemma' from the Scarlet Pimpernel Broadway soundtrack.

"Do you still sneak out in the night to the hilltop and watch him?" Jefferson asked.

He was able to sleep through the night for the past eighteen years, but during his ten years of insomnia when the curse was enacted he used to sit at his window and he would watch her as she ran off into the night and onto the nearby hill. Over the hill was the estate of Percy Blakeney. Marguerite's eyes watered, her façade was breaking.

"Every night. Every night I go and watch him ride his horse in circles. He loves his thoroughbreds, back home he himself, no matter the occasion, would drive our carriage and I always was beside him. I've seen him, in town here, walking about with another woman on his arm." She let out a sob and continued.

"And I know that he would never lay with a woman before marriage, but I wonder. Does she make him happier than I ever could? It's so painful! Being so close to him and yet I know it will take close to a miracle for this curse to be broken before we're all dead and gone. And everyday, every demmed day! I see another woman, with _my _husband." Her accent heavier, her voice wavered as she sat there with the back of her head against the glass. Jefferson got up and crouched in front of her, grasping her hands in his.

"And I cannot risk approaching him in broad daylight for fear of Chauvelin going after him and in fear of Chauvelin confronting me like he did that very first year." Marguerite cried.

Jefferson had suspected her reasoning for not approaching Percy was somewhat similar to his own; it was all about protecting those you love. As her sobs began to die down, Jefferson took her IPod from her and went to the 'Wonderland the Musical' soundtrack and went right to track 16 and helped her off the floor.

She understood exactly what he was doing. They were going to dance. And the waltz-like song began and they began to waltz right in the middle of the shop. He knew that dancing helped her forget but it also made her vigilant and cognizant.

'_Nothing can exist till you dream it first, everyone knows this_

_Then it will arrive, new and unrehearsed, vivid as a kiss._

_Dreamers and children can conjure things easily, things their eyes though they're closed can see…_

_Not the way things are but how they should be, this is what is true._

_Wish upon a star, close your eyes and see all that you can do._

_Try to remember the way you were when you were her, the little girl that's there in side of you…_

_I am my own invention, meeting each day a new._

_Can you imagine being your own invention too!_

_Dreams will always start with a happy end waiting to come true,_

_(So long ago)_

_Lucid as a heart, welcome as a friend, gossamer and new._

_(Help me so I can remember dreams to share with dreams to spare, imagining a dreamer just like you…) _

_I am my own invention, finally I can see!_

_I am my own invention! (I am my own invention!)_

_Tomorrow can't be all it should be till I've invented…_

_Me!_

On the fermata at the end of the song, Jefferson picked her up at her waist and spun her around and when it ended he set her down again and Marguerite was laughing. But she regained herself and smiled as they bowed to each other.

"Thank you so much _mon ami_. You have lifted my spirits again and kept me from falling into despair." She said to him.

Suddenly there was some clapping, Marguerite and Jefferson's gaze quickly went in the direction of the sound, in the doorway of the back room stood Mr. Gold leaning against the frame of the door with his cane tucked under his arm.

"Well that was quite the performance, you two make quite the pair." He said as he stopped and set his cane back down on the floor.

"I'm sorry Mr. Gold, I thought-" Marguerite began to say but was cut off.

"No need to apologize my dear, like you said earlier ' consider the lack of business toady to be a blessing'. Just be glad that it was me and not a man like Mr. Glass, Ms. St. Just." And with that Mr. Gold walked into the back room.

Jefferson and Marguerite turned back to face each other. "Are you going to meet your brother when you finish with work?" He asked her.

"Yes I am, and I'm bringing him over for supper tonight, is that all right?" She asked him in turn.

"That's perfectly fine, less leftovers. Don't worry I'll cook, I promise I'll try not to poison you." He smirked as he said jokingly. Marguerite laughed at that.

"And nothing green and bubbling please, if it looks and smells inedible then throw it out and start from scratch. I'll see you at the house at seven." Marguerite told him cheekily.

And then with that being said, they hugged, said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Jefferson walking out of the shop, and Marguerite walking further into the shop. She found Mr. Gold standing behind his desk, facing the shelf that was behind it.

"Sir." She said, alerting him of her presence. Still facing the shelf he responded.

"Yes Ms. St. Just?"

"I wanted to know exactly how much you heard and how much you saw." She asked hesitantly. Mr. Gold turned around to face her.

"Well, what I heard was a little dialogue and then music-"

"With all due respect and formalities sir, what did the dialogue consist of?" She cut him off.

"Something about you not daring to approach a specific 'him' in fear of risking his safety and being confronted by a more specific person named Chauvelin because of the fact that he's confronted you before." Once he finished Marguerite was stunned into silence. Mr. Gold tilted his head to the side a bit as he looked at the blank faced beauty.

"Previous bad relationship, Ms. St. Just? I hardly expected something like that with you. And that name, Shovelyn?" He butchered the pronunciation.

"Chauvelin, it's French, C-H-A-U-V-E-L-I-N. Paul Chauvelin and it is far more complicated than you think." She corrected him.

"Very well. You say it's complicated; I assure you I know complicated and I also know when to let sleeping dogs lie. Odd name too." He said nonchalantly as he sat down at his desk.

"As odd as some fictional names I've heard of, examples; Snow White, Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, Rumplestiltskin, Those are a few fairly uncommon names." Marguerite noticed how he focused more on her face when she had said Rumplestiltskin, but her face betrayed nothing of the knowledge she held.

After all, she had been the greatest actress in Europe at one point, granted fictionally in the world she was in now.

"True, very true Mademoiselle St. Just. And now if you'll excuse me I'll be getting back to work and I suggest you do the same." After he said that Marguerite left to the front. That had been a very enlightening conversation for both parties.

_**MANDATORY MUST READ A.N. – Another disclaimer: Nor do I own any of the rights to Frank Wildhorn's musical, 'Wonderland'. Well, this was fun! RUMBELLE WILL HAPPEN, rest assured because that is a ship I'm going down with just like the captain of the titanic probably did… Most likely I am too early in the writing stage of this story to get any response from that joke. At least we all know Rose will never let go of Jack but James couldn't care less what happens to Jack (duh-dun-tish). But anyway, in all seriousness… Rose Tyler-… Yes I did that! Okay that's enough for now, I want you all to know that I LOVE READING REVIEWS, the good, the bad and the ugly, ALL of it. So feel free to even just vent about certain things that happened in the show, it's a great way to start a discussion. Moving on, God bless you all and I hope to give you more to read soon. Ever you servant – AE.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A.N. –**__** Hello again! Everyone gets the disclaimer and la-dada so we can all get on with our lives once we're done with this chapter!**_

It had been a crazy few months and made for the start of an eventful new year, there was a new baby in town, collapsed mineshaft from which both the mayor's son and Dr. Hopper had been rescued, there had been a tragic death, an election for a new sheriff, two orphaned children had been reunited with their father, there had been a large storm that hit Storybrooke, even through all of that everything turned out just fine and things went back to normal.

Valentine's day was only two days away now, and everyone had whatever decorations they had for the small holiday out on display. All except Granny's Diner, Mr. Hopper's Office, The Mayor's House and Office and last but not that surprisingly, Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop.

Marguerite was, however, extremely grateful for the lack of decorations in her place of work. She was not happy with the holiday as she once was long ago, but that still didn't mean that she didn't want to take off of work for that day so she wouldn't have to deal with anyone.

She had decided to go to Granny's for breakfast before work. As she was eating her scrambled eggs at the counter she began to sift through her memories of happier times.

Marguerite remembered one late morning in spring back home when Jefferson and his daughter Grace, who at the time was only four years old, had been invited by Percy and herself for brunch in the garden.

When Grace was only half done with her scrambled eggs and toast with marmalade, she was becoming antsy and looked like she wanted to run around on the lawn and go further into the garden where the flowers and the fountain and the maze were. Marguerite noticed and she recollected when she was a young child and had such a nature as Grace and told the girl that she would go and play with her, leaving Jefferson with Percy.

She snapped out of it when she heard the bell above the front door ring as another person walked into Granny's. It was Sheriff Swan, and she sat down before Mary Margaret. Marguerite turned back to her scrambled eggs and was nearly done when the bell rang again.

It was Marguerite's friend Ashley. She had her baby with her as she entered the diner. She overheard the conversation Mary Margaret, Ruby, Emma and Ashley as she turned around from paying for breakfast. Ashley mentioned something about not going because of the baby and then Marguerite came over.

"Ashley, this will be your only chance for a break, if you want I can watch little Alexandra so you can go out on Valentine's Day for a girl's night out? Trust me, you'll need it." She told the young mother.

"Hi Margo!" Ashley said.

"Hey Marguerite!" Chirped Mary Margaret. Marguerite smiled at them both.

"I haven't talked to you in so long, you'd really be willing to do that? I can pay you for it too." Ashley responded to question. Marguerite shook her head with a graceful and confident manner.

"No Ashley, I do not want to see a penny from you. I am perfectly more than happy to take care of her." Marguerite told her. Ashley's smile widened even more.

"I will never be able to thank you enough Margo." She said and got up and hugged her.

"A way that you can is that you allow me to baby-sit as much as I can while she's still so little." Marguerite said as she hugged her back.

"That's awfully nice of you Marguerite." Mary Margaret said from her seat.

"It's no trouble at all, now I have to get to work. Ashley give me a call about plans, I can pick up Alexandra and give you a whole baby-free night if you wish as well. Adieu!" Marguerite said as she left the diner and then she walked to work.

The morning went by slowly and nothing different from routine, and no customers either. Mr. Gold had told Marguerite that he had a job to do. And she had figured it out for herself from there that he was probably going to repossess Mr. French's truck. She kept out of all other business that Mr. Gold did and kept her head down, her eyes and ears sharp and stuck to all things that only had to do with the shop.

He came back through the front of the shop and went straight away to the back room. Soon lunchtime rolled around, Mr. Gold decided to take lunch early after Marguerite told him that she wasn't very hungry. He noticed how she seemed to have lost her appetite over the past few days but it was slightly usual for around this time in February.

When his lunch break came to an end he went back to the shop and entered through the front again, passing Marguerite who was at the register as he did, he stopped just as he was about to enter the back room.

"Ms. St. Just, promise me you're going to eat when you get home. If you keel over during work hours means there will be a lot of paperwork waiting in store after the fact." He said to her.

"I'll be sure to do so Mr. Gold." She said with a polite smile, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Genuinely he was concerned but hoped he masked it just the right amount, he didn't want her telling people he cared, and it was true that there would be a colossal amount of paperwork to follow such an incident.

Besides, she was the only employee he had. Who else could he find to do all the gopher work for him that needed to be done? Then again she was also very intuitive and observant as well which helped with the fact that if he needed something he didn't have go through all the trouble of specific detail that would take forever to explain, which helped out greatly.

She always knew when he needed something specific, she also has a very good work ethic and discipline, which may have had something to do with the fact that she was an actress.

Mr. Gold then hobbled into the back room. Marguerite stayed at the register and placed her arms on the counter and leaned her body forward to place her forehead in her hands with a sigh. And then suddenly the bell rang above the door. Footsteps are heard entering the shop. Marguerite shot up from her previous position quickly and composed herself to greet the customer.

"Good day and welcome to Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop and Antiquities, how may I be of service to you today?" After she had finished speaking she focused on the customer and her jaw went slack, she nearly dropped her façade. It was Percy.

"Yes I do hope you can help me. I'm here to get my girlfriend a parting gift." He said as he stood before the counter.

He was just as Marguerite remembered him; his voice still held that same British accent and it still held its pleasant but distinctly inane timbre, which he used around others. That man, still a year or two on the right side of thirty years of age, tall above average, broad-shouldered, massively built and would have been called usually good-looking by others but for a certain lazy expression in his deep-set blue eyes, and that perpetually inane laugh… Did he still have that laugh that would seem to disfigure his strong, clearly cut mouth?

And here he stood, here he was, Sir Percival Blakeney Baronet. The wealthiest man of England in their time and intimate friend to the Prince of Wales, who had once abided happily on his estate called Richmond with his astoundingly beautiful wife, greatest actress and cleverest woman in Europe, Lady Marguerite Blakeney.

"Oh, are you leaving Storybrooke?" Marguerite asked kindly, but deep down in the depths of her mind she was perfectly terrified, her heart began to pick up pace. The part of the curse that brought everyone here, kept others out and its residents in, and made bad things happen to those who tried to leave.

"Actually no. I feel as if that what we have seems to have faded and I'm going to speak to her about mutually ending the relationship on good terms so she can find someone new for Valentine's Day." When he said this, Marguerite's fear quickly deflated. Internally it was almost as if her mind was holding its breath and had just let it go, and then he heart began to quicken with a spark of hope.

"That is very gentlemanly of you, monsieur?" She pretended to question for his name.

"Richmond, Richmond Scarlet. And you are?" His question truly sought an answer, because he didn't know her name. He didn't remember.

"Marguerite, Marguerite St. Just." She answered him with a smile and shook the hand, which he had outstretched in introducing himself.

"Are you related to Armand St. Just at all?" Richmond asked her as he put his hand back down by his side.

"Yes, he is my brother. Are you a friend of his?" She said to him and came around the counter to look for a parting gift.

"Fairly good friends, I'm the new patron for the Storybrooke Theater."

"And with Armand being the new stage manager you speak with him a lot." She both continued and finished what he was saying.

"Yes indeed. But before I was patron I saw quite a few of the performances, you are a marvelous actress. Your brother, I'm sure, is very proud." He added with a smirk.

"Thank you." She smiled and nodded. And then they began to search for a good gift.

Once they were done and Richmond had found, with the help of Marguerite, purchased his gift, and he left the store. When he was finally out of the shop Marguerite turned swiftly on her heel and into the back room, grabbed her purse and headed back into the front of the shop.

She then dropped her façade, her face so sad and weary. It was pointless to hope, she knew it, and she slipped into a morose mood. Marguerite slid down to the floor behind the register, dug into her purse and pulled out a little silver flask and opened it. She stared into the alcohol, hoping it would have an answer. She contemplated whether or not drinking it would be a good idea, the only answer that seemed to be conveyed by the amber liquid was 'drink me'.

'Demmed be today and to hell with the consequences.' She thought to herself. And with that she became determinedly reckless and took the first swig.

Mr. Gold had noticed how unnervingly quiet it had become even though Ms. St. Just had just taken her purse not but fifteen minutes ago. She would be in the middle of blaring show tunes by this time, something was off. That being said, he finally decided to check on his only employee.

"Ms. St. Just? Ms. St. Just?" He said as he made his way to the front, pausing at the doorway.

"Mademoiselle?" He tried as he looked about the shop from his in the doorway. His sharp eyes then noticed a womanly figure on the floor behind the register.

Marguerite's elegant form sat motionlessly, her head was tilted back to lean against the wood of the counter, exposing more of her delicate neck from the short turtle-neck of her blouse and left her vulnerable.

She wasn't simply passed out from alcohol, there was hardly enough in her little silver flask to do that, it was a number of things. Emotional exhaustion, lack of sleep, seeing Percy, fear and anxiety she always felt but masked so well, and the very depressing mood she was in around Valentine's Day. All of these broke past the wall, through the mask she put on display for all to see, through silent tears.

Mr. Gold could see she had been crying, whatever for, he couldn't understand. But then he realized that it might have had something to do with that last costumer possibly being one of the two men she had been talking about to Jefferson in the shop some time ago. Then he also noticed the silver flask sitting halfway on her palm and halfway on the floor.

He never thought that the ever ladylike Marguerite St. Just would turn to the bottle with her troubles, then again he wouldn't put it past anyone to do so either. He knelt down halfway and took the flask to smell the contents or at least the lingering smell of what had been. She'd been drinking bourbon. Gold then capped the flask and put it in her purse, and then he placed the purse on the countertop.

Turning back to Marguerite he placed a hand on her shoulder, and just like that, she snapped awake. Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip. Her eyes were still unfocused and she fought back slightly when Gold tried to pry away her hand.

"Would you be so kind as to let go of my hand Ms. St. Just?" He asked calmly. She finally regained her focused sight and let go.

"Pardon my actions Mr. Gold, especially the fact that I was drinking and sleeping during work hours." She said as she got up off the floor in an uncharacteristically, ungraceful manner.

Mr. Gold took a good look into her eyes and then began to speak.

"I recall earlier today, Ms. St. Just, you asking me if you could take the whole of Valentine's Day off-" He began and then was interrupted by Marguerite.

"And I agree that after my actions today that I should not be allowed to take the day-" Mr. Gold took this moment to cut her off.

"You misunderstand me in where I was going with this Marguerite." She looked at him. A question plain on her face, right on the tip of her tongue, he only used her first name when he was trying to get her to understand something or when he was deathly serious about something. Mr. Gold then continued.

"I want you, for your own sake, to take tomorrow off as well and go visit Dr. Hopper. I think you need to stop hiding, pushing down and drowning your emotions, you need help before whatever it is that makes you like this truly makes you ill." He said looking her straight in the eyes as he did.

'_Love makes us sick…' _Echoed silently at the back of his mind.

Marguerite nodded and then went to put her purse back. Just as she was about to hang her purse up Mr. Gold called to her. "I think since it's already dark it would be a good time to close the shop." Marguerite didn't reply but simply grabbed her coat and hat as well. Mr. Gold grabbed his coat as well and hobbled back to the front to meet Marguerite so they could both leave and close the shop.

He guided her out of the shop with a hand on her back. "Did you drive to work, walk or get dropped off Marguerite?" He asked as he locked the door behind them.

"Jefferson dropped me off." She said in a singular tone, which held little emotion,

He looked over at her. She was a broken woman, he knew she wouldn't be able to walk home and it was after 6:30 in the evening and dark out. He couldn't just leave her to wait, who knew what she could do in her state.

"Let me drive you home Ms. St. Just." He said to her guiding her to his car the same way he guided her out of the store. She muttered a thank you as he opened the passenger door and climbed in, and then once he himself was settled into the driver's seat he started the car and they drove off.

It began to snow lightly as they got out of the middle of town and were half way between town and Jefferson's house. Marguerite stared out the front window and then she turned to look at Mr. Gold, then her gaze went back to the window and the gently falling snow, she sighed quietly, leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She tried remembering another ride on a winter night, not in a car but a carriage, a slight smile stretched her lips as she sat there thinking of a better time as she felt every dip and curve the road had to offer that lead to Jefferson's house.

Just as they were pulling into the long driveway that leads to the house, Marguerite opened her eyes. Mr. Gold parked the car in front of the steps that lead to the front door. Before he got up out of the driver's seat after unbuckling his seatbelt, Marguerite gently grasped his wrist. He looked at her, a far and forlorn look in her eyes.

"Thank you." She simply said, her voice low, musical, and sincere.

"You'd more than likely do the same for someone else." He told her softly and then got out of the car, around the front of it and opened the door for her. Marguerite stepped out and Mr. Gold offered his arm to her, she took it and they began to walk up to the door. Halfway up the steps, the door opened wide and in the doorway stood Jefferson.

"Marguerite?" He said, he was wondering what she was doing home so early? He also noticed Mr. Gold and how their arms were linked. He was escorting Marguerite home?

Marguerite looked up from the steps to where he stood, she detangled her arm from Mr. Gold's, gathered more of her ankle length, navy blue skirt with black trim, into her hands and rushed up the steps the rest of the way to slam into Jefferson and buried her face into his cravat, letting out a soft sob as she did.

Jefferson wasn't expecting that and once he realized she was seeking comfort from him he gingerly wrapped his arms around her, a blank look on his face and a confused gaze in his eyes.

"Ms. St. Just is to take tomorrow and Friday off. Make sure she goes to see Dr. Hopper, Jefferson. What she has will only get worse unless she gets help." Mr. Gold said and then turned on the steps and hobbled back to his idling car.

Jefferson watched him pull out of the driveway and then he led Marguerite inside and then up to her suite in the house, which could've basically been considered a mansion, and then went back down to the kitchen to bring her some soup. He walked back into her suite and went straight into the sitting room where she sat before the fire he had lit before he left to get the soup.

Marguerite had changed into a white, lace embellished, ¾ sleeve, floor-length, scoop neck, and Edwardian inspired cotton nightgown. Her auburn hair hung down past her shoulder blades in their usual ringlet curls, and she sat close to the fire with her arms wrapped loosely around her knees as she leaned against one of the circular, crème colored ottomans. She heard him enter and turned to look at him, the fire cast a shadow on one side of her face and lit the other side in it's warm orange glow.

"I brought you your favorite." He said simply. She smiled slightly. He knew her as well as Armand did, as well as Percy used to know her. Since coming to this world she had become more accustomed to the tastes of its foods, broccoli and cheddar soup had become a favorite of hers.

"Thank you Jefferson. I'll let it cool for a moment." She said as he sat the tray next to her and sat upon the ottoman she was leaning against, his knees coming to rest next to her shoulders. Marguerite put her arms over his thighs and rested her elbows on the surface of the ottoman and leaned her head forward to rest on top of his left knee. She sighed deeply and Jefferson began to run his fingers through her hair, bringing it back to be braided, and started to separate it into three even strands. Marguerite let her eyes remain shut and let her body relax as he finished the braid.

"I think if I have to endure this curse any longer Jefferson I'll end up like you." She sighed as he began to massage her neck and shoulders.

"Mad Hatter." She muttered, he allowed a single chuckle to escape his lips.

She was so comfortable around him; so good of friends they were that they were inseparable. The position they were in at this moment could be interpreted as very suggestive in 'That' sort of way but truly suggested nothing of that sort at all to each other because of their strong filial affection. In no manner and no way were they ever sexually attracted to each other because of the fact that they both had a mutual problem, they were both waiting for their special someone to fill the hole that was left behind when the curse had ripped them and their loved one apart.

"I like to think all the best people are somewhat insane, and then the most brilliant people are thought to be mad." Jefferson said as he patted her shoulders and leaned forward to look at her face as he spoke to her, she opened her eyes and turned her gaze to him. She let a slight laugh escape from her lips.

"I wish I were half the man you became before you were left in Wonderland. Because if I was I would be a much better woman." She said with a warm smile, her voice soft and low.

"On the contrary 'Rite, I wish I were half the woman you became after all your trials and tribulations. Because then I would be a much better man, and would not have fallen for the tricks of that black-hearted wench." Jefferson said his vision blurring as he lost sight of the world around them and was submersed in memory. Marguerite pulled him out of his drownings.

"We are all caught in the middle of who we are and the people we mean to be." She said tiredly, the wisdom of her years behind her words, "We all have so many faces…" She drifted off into a gentle stream of sleep, her words becoming lost.

Once settled into his own home and turning up the heat a bit, along with starting a fire. Mr. Gold picked up the telephone and quickly dialed a specific number. The phone on the other line rang twice before it was picked up.

"Hello Dr. Hopper, it's Mr. Gold, I'm calling to let you know that I have an employee coming to see you tomorrow and that I would like to be kept posted to be notified of any change. I also want to make sure she sees you tomorrow like she promised me… So you'll call me then? Good." And with that he hung up the phone.

_**A.N. – So I hope you enjoyed that because there is more to come and plenty of time skips later on! I added an odd color to the friendship of Marguerite and Jefferson, and I hope you enjoyed it especially because you too can relate to it in a way. As it's been said before I must say it again: I own none of the descriptions of or characters used in this story with the exception of some minor traits added, otherwise all belong to their respective creators etc.**_


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